‘That’s what I’ve been told. He denied it.’
‘You don’t seem angry about that.’
‘Anger is of no help where we live, Dr Cohen.’
‘His nurse, Anka, said you knew your daughter Esther had been pregnant.’
‘Yes.’ He stood up and took a bowl of stewed prunes from the counter, then grabbed a tarnished spoon and handed it to me. ‘Eat something,’ he told me, putting the fruit in front of me. ‘You’re way too thin.’
‘So are you,’ I observed, smiling.
‘That’s because I don’t want to leave the ghetto with anything weighing me down,’ he replied. ‘But it’s different with you. Your time hasn’t come yet.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Let’s just say that traumas can sometimes improve our vision.’
To please him, I spooned up one of his prunes, but its burst of sweetness only served to distress me; I didn’t want to let myself believe that I could one day return to a life of small delights.
‘Did Esther ever say if anyone had threatened her in any way?’ I continued.
‘No.’
‘What did she tell you about Dr Tengmann?’
He took a thoughtful sip of his tea. ‘We’d only heard of him – of the procedures he performed. We hadn’t been to see him. In fact, we’d agreed that she would continue with the pregnancy – at least that’s what I
‘And do you know who the father of her baby was?’ I was testing for anyone who might have known Adam or Anna.
‘Her fiancé, Felix Perlmutter.’
I didn’t know him. I explained briefly about Anna and Adam. Mr Szwebel looked away, revealing emotion only in his frequent blinking. In answer to my subsequent question, he shook his head. ‘No, nothing was cut from Esther,’ he told me. ‘At least nothing outside her body. She haemorrhaged badly on her inside.’
‘Do you know if she could sing?’ I asked.
‘What?’
‘Had Esther a good singing voice?’ I clarified.
‘I’m not sure. She wasn’t a musical girl. But I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.’
‘I’ve a friend who started a chorus for boys and girls. I’m wondering if she ever met him. His name is Rowan Klaus.’
‘No, she never spoke of him. Though I suppose it’s possible she was keeping one more secret from me.’
It started to snow as I made my way home, and the moonlit cascade of those cold blossoms endlessly falling on to me and the rooftops and streets, covering all the muck and disorder, was so wondrous and complete that for one moment everything in the world seemed to be united against a common enemy.
The flakes stuck to my gloves – crystalline and perfect – then melted for ever.
I was moved.
Except that when my feeling of transcendence vanished, I hated all the beauty around me as one can only hate what one has loved as a child.
I spotted Bina and her mother down the street, selling their pickled vegetables, but I didn’t dare go to them.
Izzy was waiting for me in my apartment, seated on my bed. He’d taken down a figurative print by Kokoschka that Stefa had kept over her bed – a no-nonsense young woman with her hand on her hip, ready to vanquish any and all opponents. I’d bought it for her because the woman reminded me of her. He was polishing the glass.
‘Was it very dusty?’ I asked.
‘Filthy!’ He held up his rag to show me the yellow-brown grime he’d removed, then stood the print in his lap and sat up straight. ‘I’ve just heard that the Jewish Council is assigning tenants to move into the apartments of people who’ve died – to cope with the thousands of new arrivals from Danzig and everywhere else. So before you have someone move in that you can’t stand, I suggest you take in Bina and her mother.’
‘Izzy, you’re obsessed with that girl!’
‘You’d prefer she starve to death under our very eyes?’ he demanded.
‘But she’s like too soft a pillow. She irritates me.’
I made that silly criticism because I couldn’t think of a real reason to dislike her.
He eyed me angrily. ‘You’re behaving miserably! We have to help.’
I sat down beside him and took off my shoes. ‘Look,’ I told him, ‘how can anyone move in? All of Stefa and Adam’s things are still here. And I won’t pack them up. I couldn’t bear to look at them.’
‘I’ll take care of that,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll put them in my workshop. Nothing will be lost.’
‘Very well. Make a copy of your key for Bina and tell her that she and her mother can move in as soon as they want.’
‘There’s a slight problem – I think she also has an uncle living with her,’ he told me warily.
I gave a little laugh at the absurdity. ‘Well, I guess one more passenger won’t make much difference.’
He embraced me gratefully.
After Izzy left, I looked into Adam’s chest of clothes, to feel my pain as deeply as I could before giving it up. Afterwards, while splashing water on my face, there was a knock on the door.
Benjamin Schrei stood on the landing. He wore a pinstriped grey suit, and shimmering on his lapel was a golden Star of David that meant:
